Sighing out of his dream, JP made his way up the front walk and into the house. He dropped his backpack – filled with his sweat-and-semen-stained clothes – by the stairs and headed into the kitchen. As he did, he saw Ryan sitting on the couch in the den, drinking a beer. He looked depressed, his huge frame slunk across the sofa, his thick abdomen moving gently up and down. JP frowned; his brother had just broken up with his girlfriend, Ashley…which seemed impossible. The two were in love – he never expected them to split. But then again, the same thing had happened to him and Matt – at least temporarily.

“Hey, Ryan,” JP spoke jovially in an attempt to cheer his brother up.

“Hey, bro,” Ryan answered forlornly, turning his head only slightly.

“You should’ve seen Nick’s wrestling match last weekend,” he went on. “He was amazing.”

“I’m sure he was.” It broke JP’s heart to see his brother like this. Ryan had been so strong, especially after all the hard times he had gone through. It was hard to believe that something like a break-up would get him down like this. He must have really loved her, JP thought to himself. Quietly, he walked around the couch and plopped down on the loveseat across from his brother, looking at him worriedly. Ryan met his eyes. It must have been a strange scene. Two hulking muscle-gods – each an easy 245 pounds of beef – sitting across from each other, both wanting to speak, neither knowing what to say.

“We have to talk,” JP broke the silence, brushing the golden brown bangs of his shaggy hair out of his eyes, “about Ashley.” Ryan looked to the floor, as if he were searching for invisible words.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

“Don’t want to or can’t,” JP nudged, leaning forward on his knees, his deep blue eyes prying into his brother’s thoughts. Ryan swallowed hard, flexing his jaw. He had to know that his little brother was here for him…just like he had when he was in the hospital. This was no different.

“Brionna is Ashley’s sister,” Ryan finally blurted, the former name sounding like acid coming out of his lips. JP immediately froze – Brionna? But how? Ryan blinked and tried to explain: “I don’t think Ashley had any idea that I knew her…much less…dated her once.”

Now it all made sense in JP’s head. This was why – the only why – he had separated from Ashley. He still loved her, but the thought of Brionna re-entering into his life was unbearable. He could completely understand his older brother’s dilemma.

“You do realize this is her game,” he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking with emotion. Ryan nodded. This was what Brionna did; she played with other people to get what she wanted. And apparently, she wanted Ryan to be miserable. After all, this was a girl who had used him to get in bed with JP – a feat she accomplished with heart-wrenching results. It was the reason for JP and Matt’s brief break-up. JP sighed as his mind swirled with thoughts. “I’m not exactly the best guy to give girl advice,” he said, bringing a small crack of a smile to Ryan’s face, “but I do know a thing or two about love.” His brother’s green eyes listened to him intently.

“What are you saying?”

“When Matt and I were getting ready to come out to his mom,” JP began, “we didn’t know exactly how she’d react. I mean, she could’ve freaked and split the two of us apart.” Just the mention of that made his spine tingle with what might’ve happened, but he continued. “But we knew, even though we never said it to each other, that we loved each other too much. We could never let that happen. Nothing or no one could break us up totally.” Ryan’s face dawned with revelation at his brother’s words. JP felt suddenly warm, remembering when he had gotten that same feeling.

“You’re right,” Ryan murmured, a hint of strength re-entering his voice.

“You know what I say?” JP asked. “I say you screw what Brionna says. She’s only trying to make you miserable…and her sister, too. Don’t leave Ashley because of her.”

“Good morning, Ian,” a girlish voice brought Ian out of his dreams. He opened his eyes to see the faces of two of the hottest girls he had ever slept with hovering over him in bed. He smirked and wrapped his huge arms around their naked bodies, instantly making them sigh as they collapsed into his immense strength. “Last night was amazing!” one of them swooned.

“Yeah, wasn’t it?” Ian replied. Shit, no one fucked like Ian Antoncelli. He had taken on four chicks for hours, screwing them over and over again…and they loved it. Hell, they always loved it! He slid his hands up to the back of the girls’ heads and pushed them toward his lips and started kissing both of them at the same time, all three of their tongues wrestling gently with each other. Of course, Ian’s was the biggest and most dominant of all – they would do whatever he wanted them to do. He was a fuckin’ stud! They groped his hard pecs, getting more and more into it. That’s when he felt something stirring down by his legs and then around his erect cock.

Ian lifted his head up and peered over his mountainous chest. The other two girls had woken up. The third chick was giving him a blowjob and the fourth was licking up the cum that had fallen in between his chiseled abs. Fuck, this was the life! Ian was being worshipped by four of Central High School’s hottest cheerleaders…and they couldn’t get enough of him. They loved his ridiculously good looks, his gigantic muscles, his fat cock and most of all, his enormous sex drive. There wasn’t a girl anywhere, at any age, that couldn’t resist him. And it was all thanks to the hours and hours of working out and training that he did every day. Yeah, the steroids helped a bit, too, but…

Ian suddenly began to feel uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily underneath the girls’ bodies. He could use a little juicing right now. He could tell the tremors were going to start soon…and the sweating. It happened whenever he needed a fix. His heart would begin to race, his breathing would get faster. He knew it was because his muscles wanted to be fed; they wanted to get even bigger and stronger. Shit, he needed the roids. And he needed them now! Carelessly, he shoved the girls off of him and climbed out of bed, his heavy dick flopping across his thigh with a slap.

“What’s wrong?” one of the chicks asked distantly.

“Nothin’,” he answered, making his way across his room, stepping over the weights and dirty clothes that littered the floor. “I just need to take a piss.” And with that, he barged into the bathroom and slammed the door. Ian leaned against the sink, his weight making it creak on its supports, and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw – his body was perfect, flawless beyond possibility – but he saw something else. He saw someone who wanted more…more size, more strength, more…fuck, he didn’t know what. All he knew is that those steroids made him feel better. They made him feel alive.

Expertly, he filled a syringe with the liquid and plunged it into his hip. Almost immediately, he began to relax, though his body felt empowered in a new way. Ian slowly began to feel like he could take on the world. He wanted to fuck! He wanted to lift! Suddenly, he began doing push-ups against the sink, rep after rep. He looked down at his arms, as the veins got thicker and thicker, his blood running with the stuff that would make those arms even bigger. Finally, he stopped and glared at his reflection. Fuck, I’m gorgeous, he thought to himself, his massive arms forced far from his torso by his engorged lats. Growling softly, he sauntered back into his room – his massive, tree-trunk thighs rubbing lightly against each other – and stared at the four girls who were waiting for him on his bed. He exploded into a double biceps pose, practically making the cheerleaders faint.

“Check out these guns!” he roared. “Almost 21 fuckin’ inches!”

“Wow!” the girls breathed as they rushed over to him, sucking on his biceps with erotic fervor. Their mouths moved down to his pecs, his abs, his legs…all huge beyond their wildest belief.

“Yeah, fuckin’ worship me!” Ian bent down and picked up two 40-pound dumbbells and started curling them like they were feathers. Instantly, the girls shrieked and began groping and licking his biceps as they grew bigger and bigger and more and more pumped. Shit, they were starting to look like bowling balls, they were so huge! Ian’s cock grew to its full seven and a half inches at the sight of them.

“Fuck me!” one of the chicks gasped, practically shoving her pussy onto his dick. Ian grinned and began railing her while still curling the weights. The other three continued worshiping his god-like body, moving their tongues along every each of his skin. They wanted all of him! And he would grant them their wish. Just then, he spewed into the girl with such force, she fell backward onto the bed, a shower of jizz spraying the room. Ian dropped the weights to the floor, his flushed chest heaving up and down. The girls were either on their knees or slumped at his feet, exhausted.

“I need a shower,” he grunted and went back into the bathroom, leaving the four nude bodies nearly lifeless on his bedroom floor. “Meet you later at my car.”

Nick sat down at the lunch table, his tray heaped with food. The cafeteria ladies knew him well and would always give him extra large helpings. Of course, he always thanked them with a smile that warmed their hearts. Everyone loved Nick, and while it was easy to figure that that was because of his gorgeous looks and perfect body, it was also because he went out of his way to be nice. He knew each of the cafeteria ladies by name and sometimes had short conversations with them as they piled on the food.

Nick dug a fork into the meatloaf as he gazed across the room. Brandon had just entered, a pretty girl on either side. Nick shook his head. Brandon was known for being a ladies’ man; one look at those round, blue eyes, flawlessly combed blond hair and immaculately carved body and you’d be taken…just like Nick had. A lot of girls had been with him – a monstrously thick, 13-inch cock certainly didn’t hurt his social life either. He had the heart of every female in the school, but not one of them had ever succeeded in capturing his. Of course, it never occurred to them the true reason why: Brandon simply wasn’t interested in girls; he was merely acting the stereotype of the straight, hunky teenage jock.

“Hey, man,” Brandon greeted Nick after he kissed the girls goodbye and sat down at the table. Nick’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his best friend’s deep voice.

“Hey.” Brandon un-hooked his backpack from around his muscular chest and set it down next to his chair, his wide lats expanding the material of his shirt.

“How’s the musical going?” he asked, pulling out his brown bag lunch – he never ate cafeteria food.

“Good,” Nick answered. “You comin’ to it, right?”

“Of course,” Brandon gave a look as if it was the dumbest question in the world. Then, a long silence fell between the two jocks; they exchanged several glances, each knowing exactly what was on the other’s mind. “Ok,” Brandon finally broke, “I have to say something. Have you seen Ian lately?” Nick looked at his friend anxiously – he had wanted to talk about this, but never could figure out how to begin.

“Yeah,” he replied hoarsely, nodding. “He’s scary huge now. He has to be doing steroids.”

“You kidding me?” Brandon’s expressive eyebrows arced. “His muscles are getting absurdly huge, his roid rages have been getting worse…” He looked down for a moment. “…and Blake said he saw him shooting up in the locker room. The guy’s out of control.” Nick could only agree with him. Ian had being growing so rapidly it was astounding, but lately it was getting frightening.

“I don’t get it,” he said out loud the thoughts that were swimming around inside his head. “I’ve known Ian since we were little…and he’s smarter than this. He’s not a stupid jock.” Brandon sighed, thoughtfully taking a bite out of his apple, his round eyes staring blankly at the table.

“Nick,” he began, “I’ve been around sports my entire life and I’ve seen dozens of guys fall into the temptation of steroids. It has nothing to do with how smart they are.” Nick gave him a look of confusion. But why would Ian just juice without regard for what he was doing to himself…and others? Brandon continued: “Usually, guys do this stuff because they’re jealous of someone else. Some teammate or friend is bigger than they are and they…” His voice drifted off suddenly as he realized what he was saying, but it was too late. Nick felt a twinge of guilt sweep through him like a tidal wave. Why hadn’t he seen this before? Why hadn’t he realized what he had done? “I’m not saying that you had anything to do with it,” Brandon quickly tried to explain.

“Yes, it does,” Nick blurted before his buddy could say anything more. “Back in seventh grade, I started lifting and packing on muscle real fast – Billy did too. But Ian wasn’t. He stayed pretty much the same size while the two of us grew.” He gulped, his lip quivering. “I always thought the reason for him drifting away from us was just because he was growing up, you know? But it was all my fault. I should have said something, helped him out, maybe asked him to work out with us more or something.” Nick felt like he was going to throw up. Brandon looked at him concernedly.

“Ian’s the way he is because of me.”

Mrs. Antoncelli checked on the steaks she was grilling on the stove as the front door slammed, rattling every wall in the house. One of these times, that boy was going to break that door. But that was alright; her husband would fix it.

“Hey, ma!” Ian’s voice bellowed from the front hall. “You got my snack ready? I’m starving!”

“Of course, dear,” she answered sweetly. “I’m just serving it right up.” She forked the two huge pieces and plopped them onto a plate just as Ian burst into the kitchen. Mrs. Antoncelli couldn’t help but feel proud of her son as she saw him. He looked like a young bodybuilder; it was hard to believe that he was still only 15 years old. The white tanktop he wore hugged his traps and chest tightly, almost to the point of tearing. In fact, there seemed to be a small hole in the seam right underneath his armpit. She was going to have to buy him new ones soon already.

“Give it to me now!” Ian ordered as he sat down at the table, his tremendous width taking up one whole side. Mrs. Antoncelli shook her head. He had such a voracious appetite that he was constantly hungry. But he was a big, growing boy and big, growing boys need food.

“Here you go, honey,” she chimed, placing the plate in front of him. Instantly, Ian grabbed the fork and knife and dove into the steaks like an animal. Wow, he must really be famished after a full day of school, she said to herself. And at night, all he did was work out – at least judging by the sound of grunting coming from the basement.

Ian had persuaded his parents to move him down to his own suite complete with a bathroom in the basement. He was getting too small for his tiny bedroom upstairs, he had said, and he needed room to grow. With the whole bottom floor to himself now, he had all the room he wanted. Not only that, but they had bought him a bigger bed – a king size for their king size boy – and a whole bunch of workout equipment. Now, Ian could train to his heart’s content and get bigger and stronger all he wanted.

“Mom, give me more!” he grunted, pushing the plate away from him. Mrs. Antoncelli was ready – there wasn’t a meal where he didn’t ask for seconds or thirds anymore – and served him two more pieces of steak. He immediately tore into those like he had the first two. When he was finished, he stood up heavily and swung his huge arms back and forth, his pecs bunching up in between his biceps. Ian sure was getting big. “See ya later, ma,” he said, lumbering toward the door, but not before jumping up to grab the lintel and pumping out a few pull-ups. Mrs. Antoncelli shook her head again as she watched her son’s back muscles explode with power. Such a strong, hard-working young man, she thought. “I’m gonna be late for track practice,” he growled on his way out to his GTO – another present from his parents. His father insisted he have a nice-looking car to be seen around in.

As Ian peeled out of the driveway, all Mrs. Antoncelli could think about was how proud of she was of her big, muscle-bound son.

Billy sat on the sofa, his beefy arm around Trish as the two kissed. They had just had their first date – at Applebee’s – and they were now hanging out back at her house. Trish was a great girlfriend. She was pretty and was a great kisser. Ok, so Billy had never kissed anyone else but her, but it certainly felt good to kiss her. Her tongue tasted so cool in his mouth and he loved the feeling of her body against his.

“Thanks for dinner,” Trish said once they parted lips.

“Your welcome,” Billy answered, smiling in the way he knew she liked. Being a jock wasn’t so hard. He had always been nervous about asking a girl out, but it had turned out like a dream. Trish snuggled in closer to Billy, laying her hand on his stomach, her head against his gigantic chest. Just then, she slid her hand down toward his pants and underneath the waistband. Instantly, Billy jumped and grabbed her wrist. What the hell? She looked at him with a shocked look on her face.

“What?” she exclaimed.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, confused. At first, she looked as if she didn’t know what to say, but then she grinned.

“Oh, come on,” Trish laughed. “I’ve seen that bulge in your pants. You must have a foot-long down there.” Billy blushed a deep red as he realized that she was talking about his penis. Why did she want to know about that?

“What are you talking about?” he wondered aloud. Trish suddenly looked at him weird.

“Billy, have you ever been with a girl before?” He gave her an awkward look. What was she talking about? “You’ve never had sex?” She seemed to be surprised. Wasn’t sex for grown-ups? They had only been on one date.

“I don’t want to,” Billy replied simply. Trish raised her eyebrows and nearly burst out in laughter.

“You never told me you were such a prude,” she remarked in a way that made Billy feel uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“A prood?” he repeated. What the heck did that word mean? Trish shook her head and sighed.

“You are so stupid,” she said at almost a whisper. Billy’s mouth dropped open. What? Why did she say that?

“What did you call me?” he asked.

“You’re just as stupid as they said you were,” she returned even more nastily.

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Trish got up and began to walk away. “Just go home.” Billy sat there for a second on the sofa, baffled, before he finally got up to leave. Why didn’t Trish like him all of a sudden? Didn’t she think he was good-looking? Billy’s head spun as he walked out of the house. There was so much about being a jock that he still didn’t understand.

Kim trudged out of school toward her car, her backpack slung over her shoulder. These should have been the best years of her life, her high school years. But she felt like she wanted to die. And it just kept getting worse and worse. Her boyfriend was basically forcing her to be his sex slave…only for the sole reason that she had money to pay for his steroid/heroin addiction. She wished she had never met him. She wished she had never even been born. Then, a car screeched to a halt right next her. She didn’t have to turn around to see who it was.

“Hey, Kim,” Ian smirked at her like he owned her – well, in his mind, he did. “You wanna ride home?” She turned toward him, though avoiding his eyes.

“No, I have my own car,” she muttered.

“Come on,” he insisted, setting the car into park and getting out. He had obviously been working out, his tanktop was drenched in sweat and his shoulders and arms were covered in pumped veins. Plus, she could smell his stench from five feet away. “We’ll have fun,” he went on. “I’ll show how much stronger I’ve gotten since last time.” Kim shut her eyes and winced as he flexed his bulging biceps in self-admiration.

“No,” she blurted.

“Kim, don’t be a bitch,” he returned, becoming angry. Suddenly, she swung around, almost making him jump.

“You want to know who’s the bitch,” she argued. “You are. I know you’re stealing money from me to pay for your addiction.”

“What do you know?” he scoffed defensively.

“Everything,” Kim seared. “I know who you’re getting your roids from. I know how you spend every night.” She fought back tears as she finally vented all those months of frustration and anger. “I also know that there’s heroin in those steroids. I bet that’s something you didn’t know.”

“Shut up, you little bitch!” he roared, coming toward her. She cringed as he grabbed her hard by the arms and shoved her against the hood of his car. “You don’t know shit!” Kim finally looked up into Ian’s eyes and saw the wildness that was in them. He knew he’d kill her without a second thought, but somehow she didn’t care.

“You think you own me,” she said remarkably more calmly than she felt. “But you’re owned by something you can’t control.” Ian narrowed his eyes at her and pulled his huge fist back. Then without even thinking, as if someone else was powering her body, Kim kneed him in the balls. He immediately lurched backward in pain, yelling at the top of his lungs. Taking the chance, she bolted toward her car and drove off.

It wasn’t until she was a mile down the road – in the community pool parking lot – that she began to calm down. She looked around to make sure Ian hadn’t followed her or something and took in a deep breath. She knew she had just signed her death warrant or the next thing closest to it. Ian couldn’t control his rages anymore; he couldn’t control anything anymore.

Kim climbed weakly out of her car. There was nothing she could do now…except one thing. •